The First Question in the Universe
by JasmineThomas
Summary: The Doctor, a not so typical school boy from Leadworth Village, outside London is about to ask the most important question in his life to the girl of his dreams. Little does she know that she is planning to ask exactly the same question...
1. Morning Rituals

**Thank you to runyoucleverboy-remember for giving me the courage to upload this, so thank you :)**

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He almost did it! He almost kissed her… Clara - his Impossible, Souffle Girl- Oswald… he almost kissed her.

She was stood, leaning on the TARDIS console talking to her. He wasn't really listening. She walked over and pulled his arm down from where he was stood so that he was level with her eyes. His eyes were looking at his lips, leaning in, almost there…

"DOCTOR!" The Doctor woke up. He was in a regular bed. He saw a girl. The girl of his dreams. Clara, stood at the door, her school uniform on, glaring down at him, with her tie in her hand. "It's time for school… Craig said to go get a bucket of water to wake you up! Be happy that I didn't! I almost did." Clara said, raising her voice slightly, pulling her collar up to fasten her tie around it. "So, get dressed." She turned on her heel and he could hear the gentle patter of her feet on the stairs as she ran downstairs.  
The Doctor was a boy, from Leadworth, of 17. He was finishing off boarding school and lived with his friends, Craig and Rory, both of which had grilfriends, Sophie and Amy. He was called John Smith originally, but then found that he liked the name Christopher Rhodes, before being landed with the nickname "The Doctor." He never really knew how he got that title, after being called "Scary Robot Man" by Craig, "Raggedy Man" by Amy and "Chin Boy" or "Chin" by Clara. It was just a name that had stuck with him, like his brother had been called Ten, after the fact that he has been the 10th John Smith in the family.  
The Doctor sat up and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands in exhaustion from the night before. He and Clara had gone to a party and got drunk. Well, he got drunk and she had to carry him home after about 2 tequila sunrises. His head was banging as he got dressed and pulled his hideous jumper on. It was a dark red. He hated red. He loved blue. But whatever he wore that was red, Clara seemed to like, so he wasn't really bothered. He lifted his collar up, as he had seen Clara do just minutes before, and placed his tie underneath it, secretly wishing it was a bow tie, because bow ties are cool. He swiped his quiff off his face with wax and made his way downstairs.

Craig and Sophie were sat with Amy and Rory in the kitchen. Clara was sat on the kitchen top, sipping a mug of tea. She looked over at the doorway expectantly. She had told the Doctor to get up and ready for school, so he was probably doing that. She checked her watch. Half past seven. An hour to get his breakfast, brush his teeth and get over to school. She smiled as she saw Amy burst out laughing and laughed herself when Amy fell off her chair onto Rory's lap, although she wasn't convinced that Amy didn't do it on purpose. Just as Amy got back up, the Doctor came bounding into the room with his quiff waxed back into the rest of his hair, leaving a lump on the top of his head. He walked over to near where Clara had deliberately sat, so that he could stand next to her to open one of the cupboards next to her head. He smiled weakly and nervously at her and got out a bowl. Clara shook her head. He touched his head self-consciously at her.  
"What? What is it? Do I have something on my head?" He placed his hands on his head as if searching. Clara saw out of the corner of her eye that the two couples sat at the table were staring at them intently. Clara put her fingers to the right of his head, where the quiff was waxed backwards and ran her fingers through it, bringing the quiff back onto his eyebrows, near his eyes. He closed his eyes, wincing slightly as he opened them, making Clara giggle slightly.  
"It's about what don't have on your _face_." She told him. "It's about your quiff. It's waxed back. We do this every morning. Keep it _on_ your face. Not off it." She said as he routinely grabbed her waist, helping her jump off the marble table top. He kissed the top of her head and poured his cereal as she watched him eat it where he stood, wondering whether he was going to ask her the question that she'd been dying for him to ask her.

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	2. Something Different to Routine

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The Doctor shovelled his breakfast into his mouth, thinking about the dream he had. He smiled at the thought that Clara might even possibly like him. The TARDIS was a made up invention of his and Clara's. He remembered that he created the name (Time and Relative Dimensions in Space) because they both liked space travel. He also remembered that Clara called it the snogbox, because he had mentioned taking companions in there to keep him company. She joked with him about it every time he brought it up. He imagined taking her into that box and kissing her to make it a snogbox. _No! Can't think about that! She is not my girlfriend! She's the Impossible Soufflé Girl! No!_ He thought to himself.

Clara drained her mug of tea and set it on the top, ready to be washed later. She checked her watch. Quarter past eight. The Doctor usually had 3 bowls of cereal to actually stay awake during school hours. She thought about the TARDIS invention of theirs and how much she'd like to build it just to snog the Doctor inside. _No! No! I mustn't think about that!_ She thought. _He's the Doctor, not my boyfriend. We're just friends, that's all we are. He probably doesn't even think that of me!_ She thought about him every waking moment, thinking of his head on her lecturer's body and thinking how wrong that was, then imagining the Doctor standing there instead of her lecturer. She liked those lessons better. Otherwise, she'd be drawing him until a lecturer saw that she wasn't paying attention and asked her what she thought about the "Micro-philosophical Theorem of the Genetic Magnitude of something or other… she wasn't any big brained geek. She only picked those lessons because her dad picked the wrong lessons by accident.

The Doctor finished and cleared his bowl away, whisking Clara's mug along with it. Amy, Rory, Craig and Sophie had already left, leaving the Doctor and Clara to be late. Clara sighed and walked up to one of the chairs, pulling her red cardigan off it. The Doctor ran up and span around like a giddy five- year old. Clara giggled before being pulled through the house and out of it by the Doctor, who shouted loudly:  
"Come on, soufflé girl, we've got a bus to catch!"

Clara stood outside. Leadworth was a small village but it was a quiet and peaceful one too. It was cold though, and she was glad that she managed to swipe her good red jacket from the porch on the way out. She hugged herself in it, freezing from the weather. The Doctor stood alongside her in his big tweed coat that no matter how many times she said looked ridiculous with his uniform, he still wore. It was a subtle purple colour and looked awful against the bashful red colour of the uniform's jumper.

"No take it off!" She cried at him, mockingly. He looked disappointed and hurt as she laughed at him. "I was only joking. You know that whatever I say, you'll not take it off anyway!" She said between breaths to calm down. He patted her back forcefully as she bent over, holding her knees for support, to get her back for her laughing. She stood up properly and punched him softly on his arm.  
"Hey!" She doubled over, laughing again as he started the pouty face just as the bus drew in. She walked over and showed their bus passes and sat down while the Doctor followed.  
The bus ride wasn't particularly long, but wasn't quick either. The Doctor kept spouting the rubbish he usually did. Clara kept pretending to listen while she checked her Tumblr. She knew almost all of the things he talked about anyway… How good his lessons were on that particular day, how much he wanted to thump his cousin, Harry Saxon, the next time he saw him and sarcastically telling her how much he was looking forward to the cook's vegetable stir fry, upset that it wasn't fish custard. But he spouted another thing into the routine today.  
"Clara?" Clara looked up at him, wondering what the next question would be. "I…

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	3. Feeling Sick

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"I ... I wondered if you've got that science and uropium textbook. I need it for my Malfunctioning robot tests lectures." The Doctor blurted out. Clara looked down, disappointed. She fumbled in her red satchel until she found her textbook. She handed it to him, looking to the window as he took a packet of jelly babies out of his pocket. "Want one?" He offered.  
Clara wanted to punish him for asking the wrong question. She wanted to leave him hanging to realise that he did love her and that he should ask her immediately. She shook off his offer with a wave of her hand and when the bus came to a halt, she slid past the Doctor, running off to her form group quicker than he could follow her.  
She ran into the toilets, heaving up her guts. She closed the cubicle door, crying on the inside and sitting down with her head against the wall. She pounded the wall with her fist. She felt even more sick and thought it was silly getting all upset like this when the Doctor had just asked her for a textbook. She knew she was being silly but the Doctor made her feel like he was finally going to ask her the first question in the universe, the one she'd wanted to hear since they were little.  
She cried until she heard a voice. A scottish accent sounded.  
"Clara? Are you in there? It's Amy." Clara closed her eyes, letting silent tears trickle onto her coat. She didn't want to talk to Amy, or Sophie, or Rose, or Martha, or Donna. She didn't want to talk about any of this stuff with her friends. She didn't. She point blank refused an wished she hadn't let something slip to Donna the Gossip the first time around when she got asked if her and the Doctor were dating.  
"Go away." She heard Amy's buckled cowboy boots move closer. She dreaded the next few words as she could tell that Amy was not going to give up without a fair fight towards this.  
"We're in the same form. I'm not going anywhere until you go there with me." Clara could almost hear Amy folding her arms with her stubborn ways. She took her hair and wrenched it in frustration as she cried silently. She stopped for a few seconds as she tried to say normally:  
"Look, I don't feel well. I've just thrown up. It'd be better to just leave me and go to form." Clara desperately tried to make her go. She heard her own voice wobble in shame and in desperation and in total upset.  
"Well, I'd better take you to the nurse, then." Clara slammed her head against the wall in desperation. She really would not leave, would she? She felt sick again... she heaved against the toilet and leaned back after, hating herself for getting so worked up over the Doctor not asking her the silly question already. She needed to pluck up the courage.  
Clara unlocked her cubicle door after flushing the toilet and saw Amy's smypathetic face. Amy gave her a hug and Clara felt the need to cry, but was too stubborn to in front of friends.  
"I know what this is about." Amy said, comfortingly after their embrace ended.  
"What?" Clara asked, knowing full well what she was talking about.  
"You were upset that the Doctor hasn't asked you out yet. I'm your best friend. Don't bottle it up... now, I think you need to see the nurse about going home and talk to him tomorrow, come on." Amy took her hand, gave it a squeeze and then walked with her to the nurse's office for Clara to be sent home.

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	4. The Answer to the Question

The Doctor was confused. Clara had run off in such a hurry that he hadn't been able to plan meeting with her after school. He was going to ask her to be his girlfriend. He thought he'd be able to catch her if he met up with her after home economics class. But Clara wasn't in English. She wasn't in Art. She wasn't in Home Economics and she definitely wasn't in History. She wasn't anywhere around school. He was completely worried about her and whatever was going on; he needed to get down to the bottom of it.

At break, he grabbed Amy from her group of friends. He pulled her round to the wall.  
"Cl-" He couldn't finish. He sank down and sat, head banging repeatedly on the wall as he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Amy was still stood and crouched as her put his head in his hands. She placed her hand on his left arm, comfortingly. He looked up at her light brown eyes as she saw something in his, which made her look at him knowingly.  
"I know what you're thinking. And Clara's fine. She wasn't well so she went home. I helped her to the nurse's before form." The Doctor looked speechless and worried. She stood up, offering him her hand, which he accepted, hoisting himself up.  
"So, what's wrong with her?" The Doctor asked timidly.  
"She was just sick. I wouldn't worry. She hasn't got some life threatening disease or anything." The Doctor brightened at these words, chuckling at his friend. She laughed and soomthed his collar down, hugging him comfortingly. Rory walked up. Amy took the Doctor's hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking away with Rory. _Probably going to the bike sheds to have a good snog_, he thought, jealously wishing he could do the same with Clara. He had to ask her that question. And soon!

He closed the door to the dormitory house, quietly, just in case Clara was asleep. The doors downstairs were closed, so he crept silently up the sairs, to make sure that she was ok. Skiving off school was totally worth it. He opened the door to her room and didn't see her. Her made was made, but had the dent in the memory foam from where her body had been and the ruffled sheets showed that she had laid on top of the covers at some point. He suddenly heard a muffled coughing coming from downstairs. Turning on his heel, he ran down the flight of stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.  
"Clara?" He called. He opened the door to the lounge and saw her. She was sat watching an episode of _Castle_, with a box of tissues beside her and the TV remotr and a mug of tea in her hands. She paused the tv to look at him.  
"Why aren't you at school?" She wondered aloud. The Doctor sat next to her, handing her a bar of Dairy Milk Oreo that he had bought for her on the way home.  
"I had better things to do than P.E! Like... looking after you." Clara blushed crimson as she broke the chocolate bar in half, giving one half to the Doctor.  
"Doctor-" He held his hand up.  
"No, before you say anything, Clara.." They both had the same thing to say and both blurted out:  
"Will you go out with me?" They both looked shocked, as if they had not expected a yes from each other, let alone the same question. Clara wrapped her arms around the Doctor's neck in a hug, which the Doctor returned.  
"So, why were you ill, when you were fine this morning?" The Doctor finally asked when they broke apart. Clara stared at her hands in her lap.  
"This morning, you took so long to ask me for that textbook that I thought you might ask me out. But you didn't. And I got quite upset and made myself ill." She explained, embarrassed at her own silliness. The doctor didn't look at her like she was stupid; he looked as if he'd never heard anything more sweet and flattering in his life. He wrapped her in a warm embrace. She didn't understand and neither did he. But they loved each other and actually admitted it for the other to acknowledge.  
"So, does this mean that you're my girlfriend, then?" The Doctor asked shyly. clara looked up at him and thought about how cute he was before answering:  
"Yeah, and you're my boyfriend." She replied, smiling. It was hard to describe. But she made him feel like a new man that had just bloomed from the depths of the world, his world. And his world was Clara.


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